


Tell Me It's Okay

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Second War with Voldemort, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-17
Updated: 2007-12-17
Packaged: 2018-10-26 14:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10788459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Remus and Harry find a way to get rid of their nightmares...





	Tell Me It's Okay

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Total angst. Popped into my head a while ago and I've just been too lazy to upload. I kinda like it :P Thanks to Oldenuf2nobetter for ze beta!

Remus contemplated the bottle on the kitchen table. So many times in the last few weeks he’d allowed himself to drink the memories away with bottles just like the one on the table. His fingers itched to grab it and chug its contents. His mouth watered in anticipation.

_What’s one more night?_ He thought. _Only once more…._

Just as Remus took a step to the bottle, there was a muted thud from upstairs. Remus snapped his head around and listened intently. A muffled profanity, followed by uneven steps, as though someone was hobbling.

Remus sighed and looked at the bottle one more time. It laughed at him. He could hear the vindictive jeers. The bottle was telling him to ignore the boy upstairs, to take one drink. One, that’s all. Who would it hurt?

Remus took a deliberate step back.

The bottle stopped laughing. 

_Drink…You’ll feel better. There will be no more pain…_

Remus turned and left the kitchen. The door behind him swung hard with the force in which he had pushed it out of his way. He jogged up the stairs, his mind still on the bottle in the table. He should have had a little, just a little. He could always go back…

A sniffle from the drawing room met his ears. Remus moved toward the open drawing room door silently, peering inside.

Harry was seated before the old tapestry of the Black family tree. He was seated cross-legged and staring at the wall without moving. Remus sighed inwardly.

Harry had been doing this every night since he had come to Grimmauld on his sixteenth birthday, one week earlier. The Weasleys had offered to have Harry to join them for the rest of the summer, but Harry wanted to stay at Grimmauld. It was just him and Remus, who had been living there with Sirius for over a year.

After Sirius had fallen through the veil, Remus had been there alone. Order members stopped by, sometimes staying the night, but mostly Remus was alone with his bottles. Bottles of ale, firewhiskey, rum, scotch. The Black family had an extensive alcohol collection. 

He’d hidden his obsession with the bottles from Harry, who wouldn’t have understood his desperate need to drink and drink and not feel anymore, not remember anymore. Only alcohol saved him from his nightmares.

Harry shifted, moving closer to the tapestry. 

Remus had argued with Harry for almost an hour before finally giving in, allowing Harry to stay. It was his, Harry’s, house anyway. But he had been a little leery of Harry at first. 

However, Harry had basically stayed in his room except for meals and to come into the drawing room every night and stare at the tapestry. Remus didn’t know what he was doing, what he was waiting for. Perhaps a small part of Harry was still hoping for Sirius to come back.

But that wouldn’t happen. Sirius was dead, and he was never coming back. 

Remus needed that drink.

Just as he was turning to go back to the mocking bottle on the kitchen table, Harry seemed to crumple to the floor. In a flash of pure terror, Remus launched himself into the room and was at Harry’s side, gently touching his shoulder.

“Harry?” he whispered.

The boy began to sob. Remus had yet to see Harry cry since he joined Remus at Grimmauld. He’d been distant, vague, and a little lost, but had never actually cried. Remus closed his eyes and rubbed Harry’s shoulder, unsure of what do to.

Harry cried for only a little while before rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. His eyes were red, but other than that he looked composed once again. 

“Why don’t you cry, Remus?” Harry asked.

“Maybe I do and you never see it,” Remus replied, rubbing Harry’s shoulder lightly.

“No, that’s not it,” Harry said softly. “You don’t cry. You drink instead.”

“Excuse me?” Remus said in a warning tone, the hand on Harry’s shoulder going still.

“I’m not blind,” Harry said indignantly. “I see the bottles disappearing and I’m not drinking them, so obviously it’s you.”

“Harry, I don’t think it’s any of-”

“You’re hurting yourself.”

Remus laughed cruelly, something he never did. “I hurt myself every month, Harry. Alcohol is the only thing that keeps me sane.”

“That’s not true,” Harry said sharply, sitting up and glaring at him. “You need to stop drinking, mate. I’m not asking, I’m telling you. Those are my bottles and unless you want to replace all of them, you will stop.”

Remus regarded Harry silently. The boy had no idea what he was asking, yet Remus knew he was right. Remus knew alcohol was a poor excuse of handling his depression, but it was the easiest. 

“Remus…” Harry said awkwardly, suddenly looking nervous. “I…IknowaboutyouandSirius.”

“What?” Remus asked, unsure about what he just heard. Whatever it was.

“I..I know about you and Sirius,” Harry said, closing his eyes and screwing up his face as though waiting for a blow. When that didn’t happen, he squinted his eyes open. “Remus?”

“What…How?” Remus rasped.

“Well it was kind of obvious,” Harry said apologetically. “The way you looked at each other, the way you touched each other. How you guys would disappear for a few hours and then reappear looking really pleased with yourselves.”

Remus laughed softly. It was true, he and Sirius had taken whatever time they could to have at each other with unusual vigor.

“I’m sorry,” Remus whispered.

“Don’t be,” Harry said with a smile. “Just don’t drink anymore. Think of another way to deal with your sadness.”

“What do you do?” Remus asked.

Harry leaned back into his hands and considered his response. “Sometimes I read,” he said finally. “Sometimes I do homework, you know, just to keep my mind off of it. When it doesn’t work anymore, I think about him. I think about my parents. And I know it’s not, you know, manly or whatever, but sometimes it’s easier to cry. It kind of exhausts you and makes the dreams easier, ya know?”

“I don’t think I’ve cried since I was thirteen years old, so no, I don’t know,” Remus replied blandly.

“Well,” Harry said. “Then it’s like wanking.”

“What?” Remus said in a choked voice. Harry blushed.

“You know,” he said embarrassedly. “When you’re, er, done and stuff you feel kind of heavy. You sleep easier after.”

Remus remembered that. It had been a while since he’d wanked, he just hadn’t wanted to since Sirius died, but he remembered the beautiful lethargy and heavy-limbed feeling. 

“I guess I’ll have to try it,” he said slowly.

“Try wanking?” Harry asked incredulously. “You mean you don’t…?”

“Well before Sirius died,” Remus said with a smirk. “I didn’t have to. And after…It just didn’t feel right, you know?”

Harry nodded. “I do know,” he said. “But my body didn’t care. If I hadn’t…you know…I wouldn’t have walked around with a permanent…yeah.”

Remus laughed, really laughed. Ah, to be a young teen when getting hard was as easy as blinking, and saying ‘erection’ was completely mortifying. 

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” Harry said suddenly, climbing to his feet. He waved goodnight and left Remus alone with his thoughts, staring at the family tapestry.

It was worth a shot. Sure, he was aching to go back to the kitchen and drink the bottle on the table, but he could control it. He didn’t _need_ to do it. He could try wanking, he supposed. It wouldn’t hurt anything.

He got to his feet and left the drawing room, shutting the door behind him. He jogged up to the next floor and opened the door to his room. Usually when he and Sirius would sneak away, they’d go to Sirius’s room on the top floor. People hardly ever went up there. It was easier for him to be in his own room, where there weren’t any memories to plague him. 

He shrugged off his shirt, pulled off his jeans, and eyed his limp dick. This wasn’t going to work. He had absolutely no desire to wank. But he also wasn’t going to cry. Not that he had anything against it, he just didn’t do it. It was almost impossible. 

He threw himself back onto the bed and contemplated the ceiling.

He tried to think of things that would turn him on, but his body wouldn’t react. For a moment he wished he was Harry, who would get hard if someone said ‘broccoli.’ 

The doorknob turned suddenly and before Remus could cover himself, Harry walked in.

“Remus, there’s something in my closet and I can’t-”

He went still and stared at the naked man on the bed in front of him. Neither moved. Harry’s eyes wandered down his torso to his lap, where they widened. 

“Er, yes Harry?” Remus prompted.

“I…there’s…closet. There’s something in my closet and since I’m not seventeen, I can’t get rid of it.”

Harry determinedly looked away from him, and Remus sighed. Well he wasn’t in the mood to wank anyway.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” Remus said tiredly.

“If you’re…I’ll just go and you can…”

“I’m not really in the mood anyway, Harry,” Remus said. “It’s alright.”

Harry looked into his eyes curiously, probably wondering how anyone could not be on the mood to wank off. Remus pushed himself off the bed and Harry, instead of running away with a red face, scratched behind one ear.

“You know, I could help you out,” he said without a hint of embarrassment. Remus almost stumbled to the floor while standing up.

“What?” he rasped, staring at Harry in shock. Harry shrugged.

“I help Ron out all the time,” he said. “And he helps me. It’s loads better than doing it yourself and I just thought…you know. If you didn’t want to do it yourself, I could do it for you.”

Remus didn’t move. There was no way _in hell_ he was going to let Harry touch him. It wouldn’t be right! Wait…Ron?

“Ron?” he asked. Harry nodded. “When?”

“Last year,” Harry said. “I was having a nightmare and he woke me up. It was here actually. It was him who told me that wanking was the best bet for a good-night’s sleep. He has nightmares too, though his are different from mine. He said that if he wanked before bed he didn’t dream as much. We ended up wanking together and he just…leaned over and did it for me. So I did the same.”

The visual of the two boys together in bed was enough to have his cock take interest. The complete wrongness of the situation didn’t seem to matter to his body. Harry noticed, and instead of turning red, he approached Remus next to the bed.

“Harry, I don’t think-”

“It’s fine,” Harry said with a grin. “It’ll help you sleep. I want to.”

Remus’s protests died in his throat at Harry touched him. His fingertips ghosted along his hipbone and Remus closed his eyes. He really didn’t want this, but at the same time, he did. When Harry’s hand finally reached his cock a noise of pure need escaped his mouth. 

“Lemme take care of you,” Harry whispered. Hating himself, Remus nodded. There was a shuffling sound in front of him and he opened his eyes to see Harry on his knees.

“Harry, no-” 

But Harry gave him a wicked grin and took him into his mouth. Remus’s brain shut off at the first touch of wet heat around his cock. Harry seemed to know what he was doing as he bobbed his head and sucked, taking Remus to the hilt. 

“Oh God,” Remus gasped.

Harry was relentless, licking at the head while pumping the rest with his fist. Where did he learn to _do that?_ When Remus began to mindlessly rock his hips, Harry dropped his hand and allowed Remus to thrust into his mouth. Remus watched his cock disappear over and over again into that wonderful mouth and when Harry looked back up at him with wide, sinful eyes, Remus almost came. But he was not one to just take and not give anything back. It did not escape his notice that Harry was rubbing the front of his jeans. 

He stepped back and Harry gave him a confused, hurt glance. Without a word, Remus reached down and pulled Harry to his feet. He cut off what Harry was about to say by swooping down and planting his lips on that devastating mouth. Harry went still in shock and when Remus reached for the buttons on his jeans, Harry stepped back.

“No, you don’t have to,” he said with a shake of his head.

“But I want to,” Remus replied. “It only seems fair, don’t you think?”

Harry seemed at a loss for words and when Remus reached for his trousers again, he didn’t move back. Remus pulled them open and down roughly, wanting them gone. Harry lifted his shirt off, revealing his toned torso and Remus growled. He was beautiful. 

Remus dropped to his knees and pressed his mouth to Harry’s stomach. He moved his mouth over that wonderful hard surface, tracing the muscles with his tongue. Harry let out whimpers and gasps above him and the already impressive bulge in his pants grew.

Remus slid his tongue above the waistband of Harry’s Y-fronts and Harry slid his hands into Remus’s hair. He pulled the pants down and gazed at Harry’s cock, truly impressed. He kissed the tip. Harry twitched. He licked the head. Harry groaned. 

It was Remus’s turn to show off his oral skills and he knew that he could turn any man into a puddle. As he sucked the tip, he worked one hand over the shaft and used his other hand to caress Harry’s balls. Harry shuddered and tugged Remus’s head back.

“No, I’m gonna…”

Remus stood up, gazing down at Harry and smiling. Harry leaned up and pressed his lips once more to Remus’s. He wrapped his arms around Remus’s torso and pressed their cocks together. Remus captured Harry’s groan on his tongue and pulled him closer.

Somehow they ended up with Harry against the wall, with Remus grinding his hips against the smaller boy. 

“Wow, that’s…” Harry mumbled against Remus’s lips.

“Yeah,” Remus gasped. “I know.”

Their erections slid against each other slickly. There was not nearly enough friction. Remus reached down and grabbed both their cocks and pulled none too gently. Harry keened into his mouth and grabbed his shoulders. 

Harry thrust into his hand, adding more delicious friction. The abandon on his beautiful face pulled at Remus’s heart. He’d never seen Harry look so uncontrolled. His eyes were clenched shut and a hoarse scream was ripped from his throat as he threw his head back and shuddered. Warm release erupted over Remus’s stomach and hand.

Remus slid his available hand behind Harry’s back to support him as his knees collapsed. Harry’s eyes opened and he grinned at Remus.

“Brilliant, mate,” he said. His hand wrapped around Remus’s wrist and pulled his hand away. “Now you.”

Remus looked into those emerald eyes and sighed as Harry’s warm hand wrapped around him. Harry took his time, teasing Remus to the point of incoherency. Remus was sure he begged for the boy to go faster, to please let him _come._

Harry smiled but didn’t speed up. His touch became lighter, caressing softly all over Remus’s cock. His lips ghosted over Remus’s, a soft breath over his face. 

“Please,” Remus whispered. “Please stop teasing me.”

Harry sealed his mouth over Remus’s and complied. His touch went from soft caresses to insistent stroking. Remus couldn’t hold back from rocking his hips into that tight, warm fist. Harry’s thumb repeatedly brushed the head, turning Remus into a shaking, panting, cursing mess.

“Let it go,” Harry whispered into his ear. “Let it all go.”

With those soft, sweet words, Remus did as he was told. He let go. His body shuddered, sending hot convulsions through his abdomen and ice down his spine. Light exploded before his eyes and he shot over Harry’s hand and flat stomach.

As his shudders eased, his eyes suddenly felt too hot. His throat got a strange tickling feeling at the very back. 

He pushed himself back from Harry, shocked that he felt tears filling his eyes. He didn’t want to cry in front of him. But Harry wouldn’t let him push away. His pale hands slid around Remus’s middle and pulled him back.

“Remus,” Harry said. “Let it go.”

Remus couldn’t hold it back after that. Harry held him as the tears fell, sliding down Harry’s alabaster chest. He didn’t sob or gasp. He just let the tension ease from his body as he cried into Harry’s neck. Harry’s warm, slightly sticky hands rubbed his back as he tried to relax.

Soon it was over. He’d cried for the first time since he was a teenager, and the world didn’t end. Harry continued to hold onto him, even though the room was cold around them. They ended up in Remus’s bed together, and Harry still held onto him. 

“Tell me it’s okay,” Harry whispered.

“It’s okay, Harry,” Remus replied, feeling lethargy wash over him. Harry curled into him and fell asleep immediately, and Remus wasn’t too far behind. 

Neither had nightmares that night. 

 

 


End file.
